


The Music in Me

by debwalsh



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Courting through Music, F/M, Fandom Trumps Hate, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-07 01:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18228032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: Imagine a soulmate au where whenever your soulmate listens to music, you can hear it too.In a world where auditory soulmates are 1 in 20,000, the odds of finding your soulmate are astronomical to say the least. And in Bucky’s case, his soulmate has been keeping him up for three years with swing, a capella, and ABBA. A chance conversation finally gives Bucky the tools to make the bond work, and maybe even find his soulmate.My Fandom Trumps Hate 2019 story for tommygirl, to benefit the Trans Legal Defense and Education Fund.  Thank you so much for your support and your great prompt!





	The Music in Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tommygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommygirl/gifts).



> This is my first real soulmate story. I’ve toyed at the edges of soulmates, but I’ve never written a dedicated soulmates story before.
> 
> I’ve read a lot of them, and I didn’t really feel like writing about words appearing on skin, etc. I poked around Tumblr and found a prompt for soulmates who hear the music the other is listening to. I tweaked the prompt and came up with this. I hope you like it - it was a fun challenge to tackle, and I’m pretty happy about the way it came out.
> 
> Also, I’m a huge ABBA nerd ...

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bucky sighed, pulling his pillow over his head.  “ABBA? Seriously? Jesus fuck, could you be any gayer? Fucking _Dancing Queen_?  Christ.”  
  
There was no use in covering his ears, no use pulling the pillow over his head.  The music played on inside, courtesy of his idiot soulmate, whoever the fuck he was.  Crap musical taste. Well, no, he liked ABBA just as much as any other dude with an ass that looked spectacular in spandex.  Just ... not after two a.m., nearly three. Not when he was scheduled to deliver a presentation to the head of R&D, the head of the fucking company, on the project he’d been leading for the past year.  Not when his whole future rested on the results of that presentation.  
  
Bucky’d been listening to his soulmate’s musical taste for three years now, an eclectic mix of ‘60s protest and psychedelia, ‘70s disco, ‘80s pop, ‘90s grunge, pretty much the gamut right up to Gaga, Pink, and Lambert-led Queen.  Oh, and a special penchant for a capella, Pentatonix in particular. He was constantly listening to the soundtrack of someone else’s life. Had been the past three years.  
  
Skin alteration soulmates were relatively common at about one in ten.  The majority of people on the planet did not have a predetermined soulmate, and the connections seemed to be dying out more and more with each generation.  But they were still common enough that the general population knew about them and how to work with them.  
  
Auditory soulmates were fairly rare, about one in 20,000.  There was an ongoing debate in the medical community that there were more but many of the affected were misdiagnosed as bipolar or depressive.  Unlike skin alteration soulmates, the soulmate experience of the auditory soulmate was entirely internal, personal, and not evident to an external observer.  The constant intrusion of music heard by another person without context could have a degenerative influence on the psyche of individuals who might have any underlying instability, especially if the soulmate bond manifested at a particularly sensitive time, such as puberty.    
  
In a way, then, Bucky was lucky.  He’d grown up ignorant of the bond, his personality and sense of self fully developed by the time the first strains of _Mamma Mia_ had infiltrated his brain.  No one knew exactly what triggered the reveal of a soulmate bond, let alone an auditory one.  There were suspicions that major life events, traumatic experiences, or even radical changes in hormones could be contributing factors.  
  
Whatever the cause, at 22, Bucky had suddenly started to hear someone else’s playlist, and it had been annoying the shit out of him ever since.  
  
For a month after discovering his soulmate had a thing for swing, a capella, and spandex, Bucky had listened to nothing but Scandinavian death metal in retaliation.  Then he’d decided to give in and check out the entire Pentatonix catalogue. He’d been to two separate concerts since then, and had a VIP package for their upcoming tour date in two months.  His soulmate always went on pause when Bucky was tuned in to the Fab Five.  
  
Sometimes, you had to just give in if you wanted to remain sane.  And sometimes you just had to change the frigging channel.  
  
But fucking ABBA continuing in his mind’s ear at three a.m. the night before a big presentation ... if he ever found out who his soulmate was, the first conversation they had would be over developing and keeping good sleep habits, especially his.  Then they would get into the whole question of quality vs. quantity.  
  
If Bucky weren’t so goddamned tired, he’d get up at six a.m. and blare AC/DC with a Judas Priest chaser to scare his soulmate out of bed. But, three a.m. ABBA.  So, yeah not going to happen unless he was wired on caffeine.  
  
Which he was clearly going to be when he gave his presentation, because how else the fuck was he going to function presenting his life’s work to the greatest mind of his generation?  
  
Suddenly the music stopped, leaving him in blissful, solitary silence.  He sighed in relief, and dropped off to sleep moments later.  
  
When he finally met his soulmate, there would be words.  But for now, there was the sweet balm of sleep ...  
  
&&&  
  
“Well, you look like shit,” Nat said over her coffee.  Clint snorted from where he was working over the stove, and Sam just shrugged.    
  
The three of them made their poly relationship work despite some pretty obvious differences in their personalities, and Bucky was lucky they’d had an opening for a fourth on the house.  The offer was always open to join them in bed, too, and he’d tried it a few times. Ultimately, he wanted his own person, and since the music started three years ago, he was determined to eventually find his soulmate.  If only to smack them upside the head. But really, he was a romantic, and now he knew there was someone made just for him, he wanted it all. But in the meantime ...  
  
“Fucking ABBA,” Bucky replied, shuffling toward the coffeemaker.  
  
“Again?” Sam asked, jumping up to grab a mug and fill it for Bucky.  Really, if it weren’t for the late night serenades, Bucky was the most fortunate of men.  
  
“‘Til three a.m.  I’m fried. What’re you making, Clint?”  
  
“Blueberry pancakes.  Bacon. There’s cold pizza in the fridge.  All the basic food groups.”  
  
Bucky made grabby hands at the mug in Sam’s hands, and Sam relinquished it with a chuckle.  
  
“C’mon, let’s make you presentable,” Nat announced, and Bucky’s housemates made sure he was fed, watered, dressed, and as ready for his presentation as they could make him.  “One more day and then you can sleep the weekend away.”  
  
“Yeah, unless his soulmate is planning a metal marathon,” Clint giggled.  Bucky just groaned.  
  
&&&  
  
The presentation went surprisingly well, Bucky had only had to mask a couple of yawns, and he’d only started to drift off in mid-sentence once.  Maybe twice. Everyone in attendance seemed to be suitably impressed, and Tony Stark gave his verbal approval to take the designs to full blown prototypes and trials.  
  
As everyone began to file out of the conference room, Tony waved Bucky over with a smile.  
  
“Good job, really.  But what’s going on, Barnes? You look like you’ve just got home from a three-day bender without the fun.  You were nearly as twitchy as I normally am.”  
  
“Oh, I thought I’d -“  
  
“Masked it?  Covered up the jitters?  You did, to the casual observer.  But I’m an expert on function by caffeine only.  I like where you’re coming from, but I gotta know you’re gonna be able to go the distance.”  
  
Bucky stood there and blinked once, twice at Tony.  Then he felt like his carefully held together facade started to crumble, and he blurted out, “Soulmate.”  
  
“Come again?”  
  
“I have an auditory soulmate,” he explained, and cringed awaiting Stark’s response.  
  
“Oh.  Well, that makes perfect sense, then.”  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Walk with me,” Tony commanded, and Bucky fell into step with him.  
  
Tony made innocuous chit-chat while they walked, making Bucky feel more and more confused.  But when they got to his office, the top floor of the high-rise, Tony waved Bucky in closed the door behind them and said, “Little known fact.  I am very much aware of what it means to have an auditory soulmate. I would not be here today without mine.”  
  
Bucky stopped in his rubbernecking of the legendary office he’d only heard about but never seen.  “I’m sorry, did you say you have an auditory soulmate?”  
  
“It’s probably the only fact about me that’s never been shared publicly.  Which is why we’re having this conversation in the office I never use so no one ever comes here.  But yes.”  
  
“Wow.  The odds of knowing another person in an auditory soulmate pair -“  
  
“Are stupid high, yes.  You’re lucky if you can find someone who has any understanding of what it means, but to find another AS pair?  I know of one other, but I know a lot of people in a lot of places. But it’s nice to find someone else close by.  You and your soulmate together?”  
  
“Have no idea who they are or where they are.  Or what they are. Just that they like ‘70s pop with a special fondness for ABBA.”  
  
“Connoisseur of the great Swedes.  Well, it could be worse. How long?”  
  
“Three years, give or take. You?”  
  
Tony smiled as he went to the bar and lifted a cut crystal decanter and raised his eyebrow at Bucky.  Bucky shook his head. Tony put the decanter down and went to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles, one of which he tossed to Bucky.  After he took a long pull on the bottle, he set it down on the bar top and looked seriously at Bucky.  
  
“I guess this is the other piece of information never shared with the public.  Pepper is my soulmate. I’d known her well before the bond manifested, cared for her, even.  But I wasn’t in a good place. High functioning alcoholic. High functioning altered states, really.  Then one night I went too far. Too much alcohol, too many drugs. Nearly died. Pepper found me because suddenly she had _Highway to Hell_ playing in her head.  Somehow she knew what was happening -”  
  
“An overdose -“  
  
“Triggered the bond.  So, yeah, I’m on Team Traumatic Event when it comes to what triggers an auditory soulmate bond.  So, as rare as this kind of bond is, the odds of my soulmate being a) someone I know and b) someone I already cared about?  I don’t think any combination of computing power presently on the planet can calculate the odds on that. But I’m grateful. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else.  So I’m lucky - I get to have my best friend as my soulmate. She plays me calming music when I get too loud and manic. She talks to me through the music she listens to - she listens to music that tells me where she is, how she’s feeling, how her day’s going.”  
  
“And what do you play for her?”  
  
Tony smiled then, a sweet, gentle smile.  “When I remember to turn down the metal, I’m kind of fond of Adele. And a bit of Gaga.  Mostly when we’re apart and I want her to hear how I feel, I play music she likes to dance to.  The point of all this is it’s possible to make the bond work. It’s possible to talk through the bond, using its own language, the language of music.  You just have to get creative. Otherwise you run the risk of constant earworms and no sleep.”  
  
“Wow. Thank you - thank you for trusting me, and thanks for the perspective.  I ... you’ve given me a lot to think about.”  
  
“It’s kind of like a video game - you’ll have to strategize how you’re going to approach the bond, how you can make it work for you.  Right now - if they’re keeping you up all night, they don’t know you, they don’t understand you. You know that probe NASA launched with all the knowledge of the world, all the languages?  You need to send out a musical probe to get their attention and start a dialogue.”  
  
“Yeah.  Okay. I can do that.”  
  
“Good.  ‘Cos I need you at your best on this project, Barnes.  I mean, if you’re gonna be the Project Manager, you’re gonna need your wits about you, know what I mean?”  
  
“Project Manager.”  
  
“Oh.  Yeah. Didn’t I mention that?  You get a promotion and a big raise out of this. Starting Monday.  I loved what I saw this morning. You just need to get some rest so you’re at full capacity.  So start that dialogue with your soulmate. And keep me posted, will ya? We auditories need to stick together, after all.”  
  
Bucky grinned and nodded.  
  
&&&  
  
That night when Bucky got back to the house, he told the others about the success of his presentation and his new promotion.  He didn’t mention that Tony had told him of his soulmate bond with Pepper, but he did mention the idea about communicating with his soulmate through the music he chose to listen to. He attributed the idea to the Internet, and no one questioned it.  
  
In fact, since the three of them were musicians and had their own band, they all looked at him like he’d just delivered stone tablets with the words of God graven on them.  
  
“I can’t believe we never thought of it.  Fuck, we could write music for you to share with them,” Sam said with a disbelieving shake of his head.  
  
“I think that’s exactly what we should do,” Nat answered.  
  
“Yeah, but while we’re in the studio putting together Bucky’s Soulmate Sonata, he still needs to get some sleep, right?” Clint interjected. “So dude, obviously you need to listen to something that talks about sleeping,” Clint offered as he served himself from the dishes arrayed on their dining room table.  
  
“Yeah, how many songs do that, huh?”  
  
“Lullabies,” Nat said suddenly with a snap of her fingers.  
  
“Come again?”  
  
“Listen to lullabies. Put together a playlist of soothing lullabies.  Start it up an hour before you really want to fall asleep - and then hope your soulmate isn’t an asshole.”  
  
“I thought we’d established already that they are,” Sam said.  
  
“I may call them an asshole all the time, but who knows where they’re located, huh?  I’m betting West Coast. Or maybe they’re just a night owl. And maybe they don’t realize they’re keeping me awake well past a decent hour.”  
  
“So.  Now you have a plan.”  
  
“Now I need some suggestions on lullabies.”  
  
“We’re totally writing you a rock opera, too,” Clint said with a grin.  
  
&&&  
  
After a brainstorming session with his housemates over many beers, a search on the Internet, and some judicious downloads, Bucky had his playlist prepared and he was ready to give it a try.  Then he got a ping on his phone, and opened a file from Sam. On it was a guitar version of Sarah MacLachlan’s _Angel_ , featuring Sam on the guitar and Clint doing lead vocals with Nat coming in on the harmony.  It was oddly haunting, calming and beautiful. He added it to his playlist, even though he knew his soulmate had already heard it as he did.  
  
He smiled at how lucky he was. He had a job he loved that just turned into a promotion.  A boss who not only understood but offered him some solid coping strategies. And housemates who weren’t just good friends and good fun, but who also cared, and did it creatively.  Now, to open that dialogue with his soulmate. And hopefully get some sleep.  
  
&&&                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     
  
In hindsight, it was ridiculously simple.  Bucky started playing the lullabies at 11 p.m., finding them restful and soothing as he scrolled through the hashtags he followed, played a game or two, and generally unwound from the day.  And what a day it had been. Normally, he’d‘ve wanted to go out and celebrate, kick back at a bar with his friends and toast his promotion and the green light for his project. But he was so damned tired, and the beers he’d had were already making him drowsy.  
  
By midnight, his head was still blissfully quiet, and he felt a knot of tension loosen and let go in his shoulders.  
  
Until that moment, he hadn’t realized what a burden his soulmate had become.  With a smile, he opened up a search and found the piece of music he wanted, paused his playlist, and started up the song on low.  
  
_Thank You_ by Sly and the Family Stone.  
  
He let a couple of verses play before he thumbed off the playback, and went back to his lullaby playlist.  
  
A few moments later, he heard the start of a song he’d never heard before, but had to smile as the lyrics resolved themselves.  
  
“ ... You’ve suffered a great injustice, so have thousands before you.  I offer an apology, and one long overdue ...”  
  
He quickly typed the words into Google and came up with _The Apology Song_ from the animated movie _The Book of Life_.  Oh.  Sung by Diego Luna.  He was cute.  
  
And the sentiment was sweet.  Bucky couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, his whole being, at the idea that he was actually talking to his soulmate, whoever and wherever they were.  
  
Well, he had to answer that.  He was full on grinning as he ran through possibilities on Google, until he found lyrics he liked.  He’d discover the song along with his soulmate. He hoped it was a good one, because he had a feeling it was going to be “their song.”  
  
He hit play on Selena’s _Dreaming of You_.  
  
And when it ended, he snuggled down in bed to fall asleep to the strains of soft, gentle music played by his soulmate.  Then he remembered Sam’s recording, and he wanted to share it with his soulmate, so he grabbed his phone and queued it up to play.  
  
“ ... in the arms of an angel, may you find some comfort there ...”  
  
And he did.  
  
&&&  
  
The sun was streaming through the window of his bedroom when Bucky awoke on Saturday.  He blinked against the brightness, confused at how he felt when he stretched and didn’t feel the heavy pull of weariness.  He flexed his hands, then his arms, rolled his shoulders, and arched his neck, reveling in a sensation he’d not felt in so long, he barely recognized it.  
  
Rested.  Bucky felt rested.  As in, he’d slept. Through the night.  For more than just a couple of hours.  
  
His head was silent.  
  
His head was silent.  
  
He practically wriggled with pleasure, realizing that his soulmate had let him sleep.  Never had he realized what a gift a good night’s sleep was.  
  
And damn, he was hungry!  
  
The house was quiet, though.  He glanced at his bedside clock.  Noon!  
  
He’d slept ‘til noon before, but had always awoken feeling groggy and hollow, his rest broken and flawed.  He couldn’t control the grin that overtook his face. What a wonderful feeling!  
  
&&&  
  
He assumed his soulmate was on the West Coast, or somewhere in the west, based on the late hours.  So he waited just a bit longer before he started up his musical commentary.  
  
There was a note on the counter that said, “in the studio,” so he knew he had the place to himself for a while.  He smiled to himself and pulled up his song library and picked a song he thought would be good to share with his soulmate. _Good Morning, Starshine_ played cheerily on his phone while he raided the fridge, thankful once more that Clint loved to cook, and loved with food.  Bucky piled his plate high while he danced to the music.  
  
He let the song end, curious as to how his soulmate would react.  He wasn’t disappointed when he heard _Come Saturday Morning_ play softly in his head.  He grinned with delight.  
  
He’d come to view the soulmate bond as something to endure, a burden that had degraded the quality of his life over the past three years. But now, after finally making contact instead of just existing with it, he found that he was enjoying his soulmate for the first time.  
  
He spent the rest of the afternoon trading music with his mysterious other half - the themes of favorite cartoons, movies, TV shows, guilty pleasures and musical treasures alike.  By the time his housemates came back up from the studio, Bucky had more than fallen a little in love with his soulmate.  
  
“Well, look at you.  Smiling, looking rested, sitting around like a fat, pampered house cat.  Haven’t seen you look this good in a long time.”  
  
“Yeah, well, it’s been a long time since I got a decent night’s sleep.”  
  
“We checked in on you before we went down to the studio.  Snapped a coupla pix and posted them to Instagram. Your drooly face has already had, um,” Clint checked his phone, “300 likes.  Ooh, and the comments!”  
  
“I hate you.”  
  
“You love my cooking though.”  
  
“That I do.”  
  
Nat settled on the arm of the couch and ran her fingers through Bucky’s hair.  “You do look better. I take it the experiment worked?”  
  
He grinned at her.  “Whoever they are, they have excellent taste in cartoons, movies, and TV shows.  ABBA notwithstanding.”  
  
“Dude, you keep harping on ABBA.  I saw that collected works boxed set in your collection.”  
  
Bucky shoved a spoonful of pudding in his mouth, then grinned, waggling his pudding-covered tongue at Sam  
  
“Ugh, put that away, nobody wants to see that.”  
  
“We started on your rock opera,” Clint announced and dropped in the chair across from Bucky’s perch on the sofa.  He put his legs up on the sofa, and proceeded to play footsie with Bucky.  
  
“What’s it called?”  
  
“I’m gunnin’ for ‘Outta My Head’.  As in, get ...”  
  
Bucky blew him a raspberry.  “This is my soulmate we’re talking about here.  Eventually ...”  
  
“You really think so?” Sam asked gently.  
  
“I gotta, Sam.  Somehow, we’re gonna find each other.  It kinda sucks, to know they’re out there, and have no clue how to find them.  At least with the skin soulmates, they trigger on touch. It’s been three years.  I’ve learned more about them today than I have in the whole past three years.”  
  
“Because you’re trying.  Like you said, you just have to be creative.”  
  
“We could write our address into a song.  Or your phone number - like that Tommy Tutone song in the ‘80s.  That creepy one?”  
  
“The stalker one?  Catchy tune, but what a colossal asshole.  I dunno - we could try that, I guess.”  
  
“Well, we’re playing tomorrow night at the Dove.  Regular set list. You’re coming, right?”  
  
“I’m your official roadie, I thought.  I carry the amps, you feed me beer?”  
  
“Sounds like a plan.  Only you gotta record us for our YouTube channel.  You can be one of our official videographers, too.”  
  
“I am not sitting there for an hour recording you with my phone.”  
  
“Nope, got a stand for you to use, and a dedicated camera with tons of memory. It’s gonna be a thing, so we splurged for some real tech.”  
  
“Count me in.”  
  
“Always, darling.  Now ... who’s up for Thai?”  
  
&&&  
  
Bucky’s soulmate fell silent when Bucky listened to the band play, but when the applause in the bar started, Bucky could hear snippets of music, like applause, through their bond.  It was pretty funny, and definitely kind of sweet, and as soon as they were done with their set, Bucky passed it on.  
  
“Seriously?  Whoa, that’s, well, that’s kind of amazing,” Sam answered with a grin and a shake of his head.  
  
“Yeah, it really is,” Bucky answered, smiling softly.  


&&&  
  
“Barnes, report!” Tony Stark demanded as he swept into Bucky’s lab.  
  
“Um, well, I meant to ask you what kinds of changes do you want to implement for the project?”  
  
“Better digs, for one.  Oh, and more staff, bigger budget.  Scope it out and let me know what you need, I’ll get it for you.  But that’s not what I’m asking. That thing we talked about? The plan of action?”  
  
“Oh.  Oh! Yeah.  Wow. You’re absolutely right.  I’ve had two nights of actual sleep in a row, and we spent most of the weekend talking through music.  Swapping back and forth mostly, but it was amazing.”  
  
The smile that Tony bestowed on Bucky was beautiful - sweet, almost tearful.  “I’m glad. I’m really glad. That’s good. Keep me posted. I’m rooting for you two.”  
  
“Yeah, thanks.  I can’t tell you what a difference your suggestions made.  For the first time I’m happy to have a soulmate. I mean, there were times I was looking for a way to terminate the bond.  But now ... now it’s something good, something positive in my life.”  
  
“That’s good, that’s great even,  Because terminating a bond ... that would not be a good thing.  Not healthy at all for either of you. Well, don’t forget to put together your Christmas list, and we’ll see about getting you outfitted and upgraded, huh?  Good. Okay, gonna go now.”  
  
“Okay.  Okay, thanks!”  
  
&&&  
  
Nat, Clint, and Sam continued to work on their “rock opera,” but they hadn’t let Bucky hear any of it yet.  That meant he was banned from their studio and any of their rehearsals when they were working on it. Instead, they had their agent, Maria Hill, swing by every so often to get video of their jam sessions and rehearsals on the project to post on their YouTube channel.  Bucky was forbidden from visiting those clips, and Natasha threatened him with mayhem and suffering if he went rogue. He knew she meant it, so he contained his curiosity.  
  
Bucky and his soulmate continued to communicate through song choices.  Bucky made heavy use of Google and other online resources to identify songs that said what he needed, and to identify the songs his soulmate chose.  It was fun and it was frustrating and it was amazing. He found himself looking forward to the music that filled his mind, so different from when he dreaded the intrusion.  Now, he couldn’t imagine his life without that soundtrack talking to him.  
  
But a couple of weeks later, his soulmate suddenly went silent.  No warning, no clues, just nothing, for days on end. Bucky tried to respect his soulmate’s privacy, but after the third day with nothing, he quickly worked himself into a panic, fearing the worst.  He hunted the net for a decent song to try, and finally settled on the Roberta Flack/Donny Hathaway classic from the 1970s, _Where is the Love_ ?  When he heard nothing, he queued up _Smooth Criminal_ \- not the Michael Jackson recording, but the _Glee_ cast version, because Grant Gustin was hella cute and he preferred the harmonies.  He’d just started playing the Beatles Help! when he finally heard a song he had to look up - Gyroscope’s _Baby I’m Getting Better_ .  Then the jazzy Michael Buble version of _Feeling Good_ filled his head, and he settled back, laughing.    
  
“This is so fucking weird,” he muttered to himself, grooving along with the horns and the percussion.  
  
Once that song ended, Bucky responded with Eurythmics’ _Talk to Me Like Lovers Do_.  He hesitated slightly before hitting play, but wasn’t that what they were destined to be?  Soulmates, lovers, partners? If only they could find each other?  
  
Or would that scare away his soulmate?  Did they want what Bucky wanted? Or would they want the distance, the anonymity?  Bucky let the song play with his heart pounding, his hands sweating ...  
  
Then there was silence in his head.  No response. Bucky felt his adrenalin spike then, panic suffuse his body, and his head seemed to fill with static.  
  
Then Snow Patrol’s _Just Say Yes_ started to play, and the lyrics articulated exactly what Bucky wanted, building to the feelings that coursed through his heart with every beat.  
  
I can feel your heart beat through my shirt  
This was all I wanted, all I want  
It's all I want  
It's all I want  
It's all I want  
It's all I want  
Just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back  
It's not a test, nor a trick of the mind  
Only love  
Just say yes, 'cause I'm aching and I know you are too  
For the touch of your warm skin  
As I breathe you in  
  
And yes, Bucky ached.  But now he knew for sure, he wasn’t the only one.  
  
&&&  
  
Sam, Clint, and Nat finally finished their rock opera, now called _Music of the Mind_ , and had booked a three-night gig in a club that occupied an old warehouse in the docks area of Brooklyn.  The show was scheduled for a month in the future, to allow time for ticket sales, sets, rehearsals with singers, the whole spectacle.    
  
They’d been sharing behind the scenes bits on their YouTube channel, which Bucky was still forbidden to see.  He did, however, follow their Instagram and Twitter feeds, and had been watching the buzz grow among their fan base - among people who were allowed to watch the vids on YouTube, who’d seen the making of clips, who’d heard the snippets of songs written by the band.  
  
Bucky was getting really tired of being locked out.  He’d even asked Tony if he could watch the videos on his account, but Tony had shown him the header video where Natasha threatened mayhem on anyone who let James Buchanan Barnes see any of the _Music of the Mind_ videos.  
  
“I’ve met your housemate, remember?  At their show in Tribeca? I may be the smartest person on the planet, but I am not going up against her.”  
  
So Bucky remained in the dark.  The band continued to play their regular gigs, talking up their upcoming concert among their followers.  Bucky was allowed to attend those, help shift gear, and catch the shows on video for the YouTube channel.    
  
At the same time, his soulmate started playing the songs _’ on a Jet Plane_ and _New York State of Mind_ on a rotation.  
  
And then there was silence.  
  
&&&  
  
Bucky had taken the day off as vacation so he could help get the venue set up fo the big premiere that night.  Tony had been happy to approve, provided he and Pepper had good seats for the show, and the band had been happy to give them one of the tables right in front of the stage.    
  
The proprietors were beyond thrilled to be hosting Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, especially when the press got wind of it, and the place was suddenly the epicenter of a press inundation.  
  
Finally, the sun set and the warehouse settled into show mode.  Ticket takers and security were positioned at each of the entry points, the stage was shrouded in a large curtain drawn around it, and the tables throughout the space were set with place settings and little electronic lights.  
  
The space boasted three bars, and each was open for business.  People filtered inside, forming little groups, breaking apart, and reforming.  There was an undercurrent of excitement, of expectation, and Bucky was happy to see his friends trembling on the brink of something wonderful.  
  
When the first strains of the music began, Bucky had the bizarre sense of stereo, the music without and within.  Not through speakers during a livestream, but live, in this space.  
  
His soulmate was there.  
  
&&&  
  
The songs were beautiful, deeply felt and richly layered.  Beyond anything Bucky had heard his friends create before. The chorus they’d added from the Gay and Lesbian Chorus of Brooklyn added gravitas and texture to the vocals.  Bucky would have been choked up and overcome were it not for the fact that he was searching for his soulmate among the audience.  
  
Sam, Nat, and Clint might as well be playing the spoons for all he cared.  
  
Finally, he had a thought.  It was a crazy thought, but if it worked ...  
  
He slipped away from where he’d been watching the show, drifted to the periphery of the crowd, blending into the darkness along the walls.  He put in his earbuds, selected the most obnoxious tune he could think of - _Fish Heads_ , coincidentally by Barnes and Barnes - and cranked it.    
  
Fish heads, fish heads  
Roly-poly fish heads  
Fish heads, fish heads  
Eat them up, yum  
  
He slipped quietly around the perimeter of the space, eyes roving over the audience, looking for someone acting out of rhythm to the music coming from the stage.  He could hear _Fish Heads_ overlaid on top of the band’s music, so he knew his soulmate was still there, still hearing two soundtracks to Bucky’s three ...  
  
Ask a fish head anything you want to  
They won’t answer, they can’t talk  
  
Then he saw him - the most beautiful boy in New York, about five foot, delicate and gorgeous with blond hair short on the sides and long on top, dressed in jeans, a white tee, and a leather jacket.  And smacking the side of his head trying to knock the sound of _Fish Heads_ out of it.  Bucky walked up to him and offered him one of his earbuds.  Bucky felt like he was falling into the blue of the boy’s eyes, felt heat rising up between them now that he was inches away from his soulmate.  He fingers itched to touch, his lips tingled to kiss. He held himself in check as the boy took the earbud, hand shaking. He tilted his head down and slid the earbud in.  He lifted his face back up to look at Bucky again, and his eyes widened.  
  
“Fucking _Fish Heads_ , man?  Really?”  
  
Oh, he had a deliciously deep voice that sparked up Bucky’s spine.  Oh god, this boy was going to be the death of him. Bucky lifted his phone and turned off the song, and the weird reverberation effect of the song being heard by both of them within and without died away, leaving only the music of his friends.    
  
Bucky smiled at him, feeling lightheaded and impossibly happy.  “Helped me pick you out of this crowd. _Fish Heads_ has that affect on people.  Hi, I’m Bucky.”  
  
He was gifted with the most incredible smile.  “I’m Steve. You turned me on to this band. They’re amazing.  Took me a while to identify them - it’s not like there’s a Shazam app for music stuck in your head.  Started following them on social media. Think I’ve seen you in some of their photos, man.”  
  
“They’re my best friends and housemates.  They wrote this for us, you know. About us.  How did you get here?”  
  
“Flew home for a job interview.  Checked their feed to see if they were playing, it seemed like it was worth a shot.  And yeah, meeting you finally? Definitely worth it.”  
  
“Yeah.  Only ... could you explain all the ABBA?”  
  
“My Mom’s favorite.  She saw them play live back in the ‘80s up in Boston.  Grew up listening to Bjorn, Benny, Agnatha and Anni-Frid.  She passed three years ago. That’s when I moved from Brooklyn to California.  And when I get lonely, I turn up the Swedes.”  
  
“Have you been lonely, Steve?”  
  
“Yeah.  Gotta feeling I won’t be any longer.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.  That interview I told you about?  Got the job. Stark Industries. I start as soon as I can get my stuff packed and in the movers’ hands.”  
  
“Stark, huh?  Looks like we’re gonna be working together, too.  Got a place lined up yet?”  
  
“Nah, thought I’d take them up on the temporary company housing until I do -“  
  
“Bullshit.  You got a soulmate and a band.  And we’ve got a house. You’re moving in with me.”  
  
“Yeah?  I know we just met, but -“  
  
“We already know each other so well from the music we’ve shared -“  
  
“Yeah.  And I think I need to kiss you now.”  
  
“Yeah?  I think so, too.”  
  
So they did.  The set ended with a flourish, and the audience went wild.  So they kissed some more.  
  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to tommygirl for bidding on me and support the Trans Legal Defense and Eduction Fund - you can contribute too at http://www.transgenderlegal.org/.
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> Just Say Yes (Snow Patrol) - https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/17920822/Snow+Patrol/Just+Say+Yes>
> 
>  
> 
> Fish Heads - https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/3510268/Fish+Heads>


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